


god's gonna cut you down

by misbehavin



Series: outtakes [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Blades (Supernatural), Angst, Blood, Blood licking, Castiel has anti-possession tattoo, I guess!, Knifeplay, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Bondage, Sam Winchester Saves Castiel, Soft Dom Sam, Sort Of, post- dark god!castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28555758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbehavin/pseuds/misbehavin
Summary: He doesn't look away from Sam's eyes as Sam lifts the blade and holds it near his neck, almost touching it. "I trust you."(rated M just to be safe)
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester
Series: outtakes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087364
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	god's gonna cut you down

**Author's Note:**

> i don't even know but sorry not sorry

It makes sense, he thinks. 

For a moment, Sam just stares. Runs his other hand through his hair to pull it away from his face. Scans him up and down. It probably doesn’t help that he starts rubbing his thumb up and down his side, like he’s counting the ribs, deciding which—

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Sam says.

 _Why not?_ Cas thinks. “Alright,” he says, instead. 

“I just. I want to do something, but I’m not gonna hurt you. Well, maybe just a little. Do you trust me?”

Cas nods, opening and closing his fits and doing his best to relax. The sheets are dark and soft beneath his legs, and so is the headboard behind him. Sam's weight on top of him is comforting, but comfort makes him uneasy. It's too unfamiliar.

"I need you to answer me with words, Cas," Sam says, his left hand on his waist.

"Yes," Cas whispers, taking a deep breath. He doesn't look away from Sam's eyes as Sam lifts the blade and holds it near his neck, almost touching it. "I trust you."

The far end of the blade's handle grazes his chest as Sam slowly lowers it. He holds Cas' chin as he gives him a kiss on the mouth. Cas leans into it, holding his breath when he feels the blade's handle stop touching him. He looks down as Sam holds the blade so close to his body. It doesn't reflect the light the way a normal knife would and so close to his tattoo it seems devoid of any since it doesn't mirror it at all.

“Sam,” he pleads, not sure for what exactly, at the same time Sam asks, “Feel anything?”

Cas frowns. “What?” 

Sam’s steady hand moves the knife until he can press the tip of it against his breastbone and Cas stays very, very still. The blade is sharp, sharper than anything, so he knows what it’ll do. Sam presses it just a tad further and Cas inhales sharply, the alarms in his brain setting off. He trusts Sam completely, he does, but this— this—

Cas doesn’t register his skin was cut open until Sam doubles down to lick at the spot and only when he pulls away to look up at him and he feels the tiny sting. It barely hurts, and he’s definitely endured worse pains to know, so he doesn’t make any complaints, verbal or otherwise. He takes a deep breath, and for the first time feels the strain on his muscles as he tries to move his bound arms. He wants to reach Sam's naked chest, or run his fingers through his long hair; anything that would distract him from his own existence.

“You feel it?” Sam asks, but he’s not talking about the cut. He licks it again then sucks it a little, and Cas’s alarms warn him about a different kind of dangerous mess.

“ _Sam_ ,” he says, though he’s not trying to get away.

“Look, I’m trying to prove a point,” Sam says, sighing. “You taste—”

“Don't say my blood tastes good, don’t you dare—”

“No, I was gonna say human.”

“What?”

“If you weren’t— If you weren’t one hundred percent cured, I’d be able to tell, okay?”

Cas looks at him for a moment, not knowing what to do. Then he does try to get away, but Sam holds the blade against his throat again.

He bites back a moan, managing to replace it by saying, “Sam, please.”

“Listen to me. If you weren’t one hundred percent cured, I’d know. And I wouldn’t let this blade anywhere near you. And I think… I get it, alright? And you need to listen to me when I say there’s nothing bad left in there,” Sam says, putting his palm on his chest.

Right then, Cas almost says something about how he tried but couldn’t leave his body because of the tattoo in his chest. It worked both ways, as it turned out: no evil gets in, no evil gets out. Sam likes to pretend Cas wasn’t himself, but deep down, they both know the truth. He wasn’t possessed; it was him, trapped inside his body, chained to his unholy mission. Him, alone. Him, a God.

“It’s okay, it's okay," Sam keeps repeating. He rests his forehead against Cas', "You’re cured, okay? I cured you.”

“Yes, you did. Why?”

Sam flinches. He throws the blade across the room, and only then Cas notices that his eyes are watery too. His voice is quiet when he speaks, “How can you ask me that?”

Hurt is all over his face, plain as day, so Cas almost takes it all back. Almost says, _I know, it's love, I know. Go on, cut me open._


End file.
